Dragon Age: Prigins
by Lady Nightspike
Summary: Laugh your way through Ferelden, right up to the Archdemon's bathroom. 4: There's a contest. Guess who shows up? Terror and madness ensue!
1. Friendly Fire Possible

I shouldn't, I know. But I just finished DA:O for the first time and, well...I thought I would write some drabbles. Contribute a bit. *grins*

Don't own anything, except maybe my Warden character. I tried to keep her anonymous for the most part here, as I will continue to do, but she is a female mage for story purposes.

T: A bad word and some rabbit hunting. And a Mass Effect joke. How could I not?

* * *

**Dragon Age: Prigins**

_Friendly Fire Possible_

Wynne was so calm.

She was so, so calm, so motherfucking calm—how could anyone in their right mind put up with this? It was a two-headed beast (thankfully not with two backs). It disgusted her so much she wanted to sink into the depths like the Anvil of the Void.

SOOOOOOOOOOO CALM.

"So tell me, oh mighty intellect with a body, how do you propose we do otherwise?" Morrigan's eyes flashed and her fingertips crackled with unspoken threats.

"We could…save the poor creature," the Fountain of Wit and Intellect replied.

Morrigan looked at the Fountain as though it was something unpleasant on her shoe. Something unpleasant that would die soon. "And then what do you suppose we would eat for dinner? Your goodwill, slathered with a sizeable dose of lovesickness? No thank you, I prefer good, tasty, meat."

Wynne glared at them. Maybe if she glared really hard, they would realize that she didn't have much longer to live and would have no qualms about murdering them in cold blood. She hadn't felt this way since Irving had tried to cop a feel during her 'entering the fade' preparation time.

"I disapprove of your methods," Alistair said as sternly as he could manage. "Besides, look at it! It's too cute and fluffy." He grinned goofily like a puppy that didn't know he was supposed to kill cats, not make friends with them. "Here bunny-wunny-honey…"

The bunny, since it was, oh you know, stuck in a fucking trap, struggled haplessly. It rather reminded Wynne of herself at the moment.

"Oh, how disgusting," Morrigan snapped. "Why don't you just go around and befriend every animal in Ferelden, then? I'll be here laughing at you WHEN YOU STARVE TO DEATH."

"It's not my fault if I have a problem with your bloodthirsty ways," Alistair countered. "You see, I'm a paragon and you're a renegade…uhh, wrong game, sorry. I mean, you see, I happen to think that there are other, more honest ways of enticing game than you luring it by shifting your shape. The poor animal thought he was going to have a, er, night on the town, so to speak, and instead it got trapped in the jaws of doom!"

"Oh yes, I am so heartless and cruel." With one motion, Morrigan stabbed the rabbit calmly. "You'd better watch out, or you'll be next…"

Wynne had had enough. This wasn't going to end, not until Alistair gnawed at Morrigan like a bone until his voice got hoarse. Neither of them, as usual when arguing, had noticed her presence. She raised her staff.

"Oh, I'm petrified," said Alistair mockingly. "…"

Wynne let out a giggle. Alistair, it turned out, was much more tolerable as a statue than as a person. And that had been the world's worst pun.

"About time," Morrigan said. Afraid that she would cast 'crushing prison' any moment, Wynne watched intently as she took the rabbit from the trap and walked away. The Warden was nearby, practicing some spells in the clearing.

"Oh hey Morrigan, is that dinner?" The Warden asked, suddenly noticing that Morrigan was shaking.

"Crazy old bat." She heard as Morrigan, still twitching, exited the clearing in the direction of their camp.

* * *

So, Morrigan kills a plot bunny...and Alistair is sadface. More to come? You decide! Or I wil.. Or my muse. Or something. :D

Extra: Shale's face seemed to contract a bit in serious thought. "Perhaps Alistair will join me on my quest for pigeon genocide as soon as he is restored..."


	2. Lord of the Dance

Yes, yes I know.

A) I thought this up in the shower.

B) Things you think up in the shower should not be written down on paper.

I don't own, thank God. And no, there's no dancing--just some minor swearing and more Alistair carnage. Sorry, Alistair. You're just too easy. *grins*

* * *

**Dragon Age: Prigins**

_Lord of the Dance_

It was a normal evening in camp. Everyone had settled down for the night and was relaxing in the way they each knew best.

"NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!" Alistair bellowed. "You've got it all wrong!!!"

"How can you be two human nobles at once?" Oghren asked. "That doesn't even make sense!"

"Look around you!" Alistair shouted. "We don't seem to have many human nobles lying around here, now do we? At least we only need one token dwarf in our party!"

"Ahahahaha!!!" Oghren said, giving everyone in the camp nervous fits. "Are you implying what I think you're implying?"

"Yes?" Alistair suggested slyly. "But I have to play Faramir. I feel such a kinship to him…and to Aragorn!"

"Are you daft?" Oghren asked. "People will totally think you're a Gary Stu. Besides, then you'd have to marry Leliana and your lovey dovey elven girlfriend who waits for you poetically." His gaze landed on the Warden, who was certainly not waiting poetically for Alistair to do anything, and instead was practicing alternating spellcasting and swordplay. Although disadvantageous, she really felt as though a Warden should bear a weapon, not a staff. Besides, staves marked one irrevocably as a mage, and having two of those trailing around after her was bad enough.

Leliana giggled at the suggestion. "As long as I can admire Legolas from afar, I don't mind." Zevran preened, stretching his arms and caressing his bow like it was [CENSORED].

"You wish is my command, my lady," he said, bowing. "Although I somehow doubt that Legolas hailed from Antiva, it only makes me more of a badass and less of a pansy, no?" He flipped his hair.

"Wait a minute," Leliana said suspiciously. "We're missing a few cast members. Who are the hobbits?"

Shale crossed her arms intimidatingly. "Excuse me?"

"You?" Leliana asked.

"I used to be a dwarf," Shale said. "Close enough."

"And I'm Frodo," said Sten.

Leliana nearly passed out at the thought. "Why, you big softy!" she said, poking him in the—plate armor.

"Ow," Sten said. Not because it hurt him (plate armor, people), but because he'd long since learned to let Leliana have her way with him. Erm, not that way.

Sten wondered if the Warden was enjoying the fact that, oh wait, Arwen was in about two seconds worth of the books and movies, and thus could safely cast spells and do whatever she wanted far, far away. Had taking on the main character been too ambitious? What if the One Ring didn't fit his fingers? But then he thought of Shale, his understudy, in his role. Or worse, they might bring in that Biff guy. That would be insupportable!

No, Sten would be the best hobbit there ever was, and he would climb to the, um, depths of Orzammar and destroy the ring, no matter what it took! (Hey, it was the only place with lava and rocks. Don't sue.)

"But…what about Gollum?" Leliana asked. "And Merry and Perry?"

Alistair's glance was in the direction of an isolated part of camp. In fact, the most isolated part. Everyone's eyes followed his, to where Morrigan was scolding Flemeth's grimoire as if it were a person and just generally talking to herself.

Leliana snorted. "Masterful stroke, oh _Aramir_," she teased.

"And, well, who better to play the other hobbits than…"

"ENCHANTMENT!" The cry came, interrupting Alistair.

Gimli—oh, Oghren—shook his head at including a half-wit in the play as a hobbit. Oh wait, nevermind.

Alistair, looking sheepish, added, "And that's everyone, isn't it? We just need someone to play…Gandalf."

In a little vale, Wynne was practicing her staff work. As a mage of the Tower, she had to be precise, perfect, and fierce. Suddenly she felt like everyone was looking at her. Oh dear. She turned around and concluded that the fact that everyone was staring at her had made her feel that way. She sighed. Couldn't the Maker just hurry up and leave her in peace?

"It's perfect!" Leliana shouted. "Absolutely perfect. And she's going to die soon, so it fits!"

Wynne raised her staff at Alistair, being that he was the cause of all this trouble. Although she hated performing a secretive manoeuvre twice, she supposed she had no choice.

"I'm GOLLUM?" Morrigan shouted, hitting Alistair with her own spell. "I CAN HEAR YOU, YOU KNOW, WITH ALL YOUR FOOLISH LORD OF THE DANCE CASTING!"

Everyone burst into laughter. "It's Lord of the _Rings_, Morrigan."

Nervously twisting the beautiful ring on her finger, Morrigan said, "Oh." Turning around she headed back to her spot, calling out, "The spell will cease eventually, you know."

Having done enough—and lost their director at least temporarily, the group moved on to more different things.

****eight hours later****

"AHHH!" Alistair screamed, waking up everyone in camp. The Warden came running out first. "What is it, Alistair? Are you okay?" She had gone to bed, assuming that Alistair was 'taking first watch' (that is, sleeping on the ground nobly) and didn't want to be interrupted.

"I just had the worst nightmares!" he shuddered. "You forced me to sleep with Morrigan…you spared Loghain's life at the Landsmeet, you traded Connor to a demon…" he was shaking, as the Warden tenderly stroked his hair. "It was…all so real." He sounded deflated, Alistair gone flat. The Warden felt sympathy rise up in her heart.

"Oh please, Alistair," she soothed. "Have you ever heard of anything so dumb? That would obviously never happen…"

"I agree." Sounding stronger already. "Reality can't possibly be that fucked up."

As she held him, she felt the blood pumping warm beneath his skin. What power there was, in passion, in fear—selling that stupid kid had been so easy, anyway.

* * *

Yeeeeeees? Please R&R. You have no idea what's next, trust me.

Extra: Alistair scratched his head as he wrote. (Yes, he can write. And even read). He wondered if his story would get any reviews. Unfortunately, he was one of those people who can't write or read without speaking it aloud, which meant he had to be in a room away from everyone else, or wander off in the middle of a battle. Whenever his Muse hit, he followed obediently, usually blaming his poor bladder control and/or ADHD.

"And then Aragorn, the mighty and fine King, proposed to Arwen so gloriously that his hair was perfect and...and his clothes were shiny. But then, the evil orcs and golems invaded the fancy restaurant that he could afford on his twenty-sovereign-a-month budget, which he in fact owned but no one knew, and he had to beat them back with shining tempests and whirlwinds and holy smites. Arwen was so impressed that Aragorn had mastered the powers of warriors, and rogues and magi, that she demanded to marry him on the spot and produce twenty-five beautiful children, of which not one was named Goldanna. The End."

Wynne lowered her staff. Oh, that tape-recording spell she'd learned from Aneirin was priceless. Instead of waiting for his posts on , the entire party could gather round while he was 'on watch duty' and laugh their asses off. She anticipated a full, comedic night, thankful that Alistair's dementia was at least entertaining...

"Oh wait!" he shouted suddenly. She jumped and put the spell back on. "I forgot about Gollum. Yes, and Aragorn never saw Gollum again and Gollum lived a miserable, short life and soon had its body stolen by an evil, mean old witch-dragon. The End for real this time."

"Aha!" he said, "but Gandalf, and Frodo departed across the sea to live on in some sort of slashfic with elves." Wynne frowned. Was that seriously all the ending she had? She considered slashing anything with Sten and shuddered.

"And...Merry and Perry or whatever their names are had a party and sold lots and lots of runes. The damn cheats."

"And..." Wynne sighed. It was time to put that 'petrify' spell to good use. AGAIN.


	3. Alistair's Musical

Yes, yes I know. Anyway, hope you enjoy this! Remember kiddies, I heart crack and am adding to my 'Stoked for DA: Awakening Fund'!!!!

And I don't own. Also, sorry the Lion King. I heartzzz youuuuuuuu...

* * *

_Alistair's Musical_

_It is the Landsmeet. Loghain has been sadly decapitated by a dagger...cuz the Warden couldn't pick up that heavy sword thing._

**Warden (to Alistair)**: So, why should I choose you? Is it because of Pokemon? I hope not.

**Alistair**: Wait, surely you know that I don't want to be king by now, woman! I've only told you what, a hundred thousand times? (to self) Wow, that's a lot.

**Warden**: But why don't you want to be king?

_Steam and smoke rise from the center of the stage, er, Landsmeet. The nobles assemble in coordinated positions and a spotlight shines upon Alistair as he begins._

**Al**: I'm gonna be a silly king, so noblemen beware!

**Morrigan**:

I've never seen a king of Fereldan

Who travels everywhere.

**Al**:

I'm gonna be the laughingstock

Like no king was before

I'm brushing up on how to wear a crown

I'm working on my lore!

**Morrigan**: Thus far a rather uninspiring thing

**Al**: Oh, I so can wait to be king!

**Al**: Everyone says do this

**Morrigan**: I can't believe they'd--

**Al**: Everyone says be there

**Morrigan**: Even pick you--

**Al**: Everyone says stop that

**Morrigan**: You're pathetic--

**Al**: Everyone says see here

**Morrigan**: And a bastard son!

**Al**: Forced to wear a crown all day

**Morrigan**: How will it not flee?--

**Al**: Never any time to play!

**Morrigan**: I think it's time that you and I

Arranged a heart-to-heart

**Al**: I don't need advice from a

vicious harpy's rotten fart!

**Morrigan**: If Alistair is elected by the Landsmeet

I'm so grateful

That Ill be raising

a demon child

Far away from anything!

**Al**: Oh, I so can wait to be king!

Everybody look left

**Warden**: Everybody look right

**Al**: Everywhere you look I'm--

**Wynne**: Getting in a darkspawn fight!

**Morrigan**: Not enough

**Entire Party and Nobles, minus Morrigan**:

Let every creature go for broke and sing

An idiot like Cailan is one thing

But who's to know what qualities _he'll_ bring?

**Al**: Oh, I so can wait to be king!

**Warden**: Oh, he so can wait to be king!

**Al**: Oh, I so can wait...

**Warden**: So can wait

**Al**: To be king!

_Everyone realizes what just happened and looks rather disgusted. Zevran nervously checks for demons that might make people burst into song, which he will obviously kill. Alistair looks at the Warden expectantly._

**Warden**: And the winner of this year's 'So, You Want to Rule Ferelden' contest is...Alistair!

_Holding the crown aloft_,_ she plunks it on his head. Morrigan tenses; the crowd sighs in relief when it stays on._

* * *

What did you think? Will you henceforth hate me forever? Yeah, probably. *sigh* R&R, chappie soon...


	4. Most Powerful Sorcerer

Yay! I updated (I fell into Awakening, sorry about that. BUT...Awakening stuff to come as well as original campaign stuff! (When I finish Awakening, if not sooner))!!!

This one's a bit slower but...in a good way. :D

I'm always open to ideas, suggestions, comments etc! Please review!

I don't own any of the things parodied or referenced in the following.

* * *

_The 'Most Powerful Sorcerer in the World' Contest_

They had all gone to the fair, though they had lost people along the way: Zevran had seen some old Crow buddies, and, after determining that they weren't going to kill him, was catching up on months of Crow gossip (who would have thought that assassins would have gossip, Wynne wondered, before belatedly looking at Leliana…). Sten had become distracted by the contests of strength, which he had entered in order to win the strange, anthropomorphized representations of animals that they offered as prizes. (Doubtless Leliana would tease him later, but they looked so…alluring, good company for a warm bed on a cold wintery night). Shale and Morrigan had gone off together to gaze at 'shinies' and Oghren had long ago disappeared into a tavern.

That left her here with Leliana, the Warden, and Alistair. Wait, _why_ had she stayed with the group? Wynne scrunched up her face in disgust, but concluded that it had been by her own stupidity that she had stayed, _and_ she was somewhat interested in the results. Although her magic wasn't as flashy as some, and she would never use it frivolously, she did want to observe the contest. The spectators didn't seem as hostile to magic as they normally would, _and_ she wondered if any maleficars were afoot.

A lot of the competition's entries seemed to be using illusion magic. They were combined to a circle roughly eight feet across; anyone casting outside that circle forfeited. Leliana and Alistair were cheering for the Warden rather loudly as she cast some impressive elemental spells (real spells, none of that trickery) and cut open her arm with a blade, only to heal herself. Wynne smiled. The child was much improved at magic, and this was a real opportunity to demonstrate that magic could be used for healing as well as destruction. Wynne had no doubt, after the mighty tempest she had summoned—which with hair-fine control, she had kept within the circle—that she would win the prize. Especially considering her competition. That Harry Potter kid had been dreadful, flicking his wand everywhere and muttering random words. And whoever that Harry Dresden was, he really needed a shave, a haircut, and a fashion sense.

"Cheers to the Grey Warden!" the announcer called. The audience burst out into delighted applause.

"You were great!" Alistair said, as she came back to her seat, placing a lazy kiss on her cheek.

Leliana tittered. Wynne averted her eyes. Watching Alistair behave like a literal puppy (nevermind the eyes—the _slobbering_ was what she found offensive) hadn't yet lost its charms. And by charms, she meant, its power to dismay and traumatize her.

"Hey! Cut it out!" the Warden said as Alistair tried to cop a feel. "I want to see who goes last."

"Our final contestant is the dreaded sorceress Flemeth herself! Flemeth once took the form…" the announcer started explaining the legend in his most dramatic voice.

Wynne and Leliana's eyes met. "It's good that Morrigan is gone," Leliana said. "She would doubtless call this fraud out for slandering her mother's name so."

"I agree," Wynne said. "This contest is full of con-artists who think that a fancy set of robes and a large staff make them more credible! And the names! 'First Enchanter Josephus?' As though we are to believe that famous figures have come to life before our very eyes!"

"Uh, normally I would agree," Alistair said, and there was something in his tone that made them give him their attention, "but…that looks startlingly like THE Flemeth."

They had heard, of course, the story of meeting Morrigan's mother. Their eyes slid to the Warden, who nodded, blood running cold. "It's a good thing Morrigan went shopping," she said softly, as though Flemeth could hear them.

"Not for our budget," Alistair muttered under his breath.

"What…should we do?" Leliana asked.

The Warden drew in a breath. "Maybe she thinks this is just for fun. Anyway, we should prepare for the worst, but…wait and see. After all, Flemeth _can't_ have known that we came to Denerim for the fair; she would never have made it here in time. Maybe…" although her breath was stifled, since Flemeth knew magic that no one had mastered…"maybe it's a coincidence."

"Or maybe we're all dead," Alistair snarked.

Tense and alert, they watched as Flemeth signaled to someone in the crowd. Two men lugged a wooden chest into the middle of the circle. Flemeth herself seemed dwarfed by the large ring, standing two feet away from the chest. She didn't look hostile, or angry, or intimidating. Just…determined?

They waited, poised to spring forward and attack at the least sign of treachery. Spells hanging from their lips. Swords in hand. Bows alert. The entire audience waited with them, silent and eager.

"Maybe she's going to attack the chest," Alistair whispered. "Maybe this is her idea of sport, and she's just here to—"

They all flinched back as she uttered a single word. But, instead of fire and ice devouring the chest, or an army of undead pouring from it, or anything, they heard a slight click.

The lid of the chest popped upon. Leliana shrieked at the noise and movement and would have fired, if the Warden's hand hadn't interposed…the last thing they needed was to draw attention to themselves!

But thankfully, others in the crowd had had the same startled reaction. Now, running through the silence were shocked murmurs, "I thought that was impossible?" "But only _rogues_ can open chests!"

After a few confused minutes, someone started clapping. Then someone else. Then the entire audience! Flemeth was named the 'Most Powerful Sorceress in the World'. The contents of the chest were revealed to be: a liferock and a couple of metal shards, held triumphantly aloft by the crafty apostate as she donned the Golden Mantle.

The Warden sprang up from her seat. "Where are you going?" Alistair asked, confused.

She turned to him, all business. "I have _got_ to go look at Morrigan's grimoire," she said, steely determination in her voice.

"Hey! Wait for me!"

"Wynne, are you alright?" Leliana asked as Alistair pursued the Warden. Wynne shook herself out of her daze. She noticed that tears had been running down her cheeks.

"I'm fine child. It's just not every day that you see such a splendid feat of magic," Wynne said, feeling very humble. "At last, I can die knowing that the Maker has given this gift to me."

Leliana looked very alarmed. "But…not right now, right?"

"Of course right now," Wynne snapped. "Do you have eyes, girl? Did you not _see_ her open the chest with her magic?" Leliana's eyes became the size of Shale's, and Wynne realized what she meant. "Oh, of course not, child," she said, wiping her eyes. "I'm sorry. I'm merely…it's just so miraculous; I forgot _everything_ for a moment!"

Loud screams and other sounds associated with general panic finally hit them. Wynne and Leliana looked up to see a huge dragon towering over the crowd! "Oh, shit," Wynne swore. The dragon prepared another blast of flame—

Dragon Age: Origins has stopped working

Windows can check online for a solution to the problem.

— Check online for a solution and close the program

— Close the program

— Debug the program

* * *

\/ View problem details

* * *

;p I couldn't resist this.


End file.
